


first (and only) fistfight

by cranberrysmoke



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, I Don't Even Know, Innuendo, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-13 05:21:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29521491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cranberrysmoke/pseuds/cranberrysmoke
Summary: Austin Creed: "this is NHL 95... last time they played was in college. they had a fistfight! they haven't played since"Christian: "guys.... video games are stupid"
Relationships: Christian Cage/Edge
Comments: 7
Kudos: 5





	first (and only) fistfight

**Author's Note:**

> This is in Edge's perspective. I used real names so I'm about to be sent a /cease and desist/!!!!

Jay can never just win like a normal person.

We met in the sixth grade. By the seventh, I felt as if I had known him my whole life. The way he was so blunt with everything, even as a child it stuck out to me. It is one of my earliest memories of him, out in the schoolyard, in his awful t-shirt, completely bold and unashamed.

So that means by the time we were in college, we were married.

=============================

All 5 of us in the townhouse, messing around and playing this game. On the weekends, there wasn’t much else to do to stay inside from the freezing cold. Maybe I'm a little mushy, but I would like to think that us as a team, as a unit, we were better than everyone else.

He was good. With the worst team, no doubt. But once he won once, he wouldn’t let it go. It was that competitive edge that he always had. No matter how small, he would hold the triumph all over the guys and all over me. But I had won just as many!

This whole situation immediately pissed me off. There he is, under the TV set, oozing machismo. Gloating as usual. The last goal... there's no way in hell he didn't cheat.

Everyone bows their heads in silence, knowing that the rain of Jay’s ego was about to storm. At first it wasn’t… TOO bad. Rubbing shoulders with me on the couch, he started to make those little comments. “Ah, you know, I knew it was going to end this way… I’m guessing nobody wants round two. Come on guys, I’ll let you win next time.”

Enough already! It was tough, but the look that he leveled me with when he turned to me was downright evil.

"Say it,"  
Oh, here we go!  
"Say that I won, Adam."

God knows I wasn’t going to say anything like that. The implication was terrible, bared to the bone.  
Who shoved first was almost impossible to tell. Jay's hair was so long, and so was mine, that we were almost exact duplicates of irritation and pride. That made me madder, that fighting him was like fighting a mirror image of myself.

He starts fighting back, all palms and rough nails, and on instinct I'm hot. He can stop this entire fight, so why doesn’t he? I think that he’s cheating again… by making me madder. By making me mad like this on purpose.

We go spilling over the dining room table, and pool balls go flying everywhere. He’s hitting, but I’m slowly realizing it’s not hard enough to really wound me. Before we have any longer to wrestle on the ground, our roommates start pulling us apart. For our own good, before I show Jay what pain really meant.

We’re pulled apart and I look at his body, face and shoulders scratched. He wears a glazed, scorned expression on his face, like he doesn’t know what I’m waiting for. I'm waiting for him to apologize! I jolt towards him. I’ll force it out of him if need be….

Not stubborn, stubborn Jay. He doesn’t even take a second to think before what comes next. He takes one look at me and bolts out of the front door like a bat out of hell. He’s guilty. And I just won't let him win that easily.

=============================

I begin to storm to my car. If he wants to fight, we'll fight, but we're doing this right now or never. Why does he get to be the one to be mad, anyway? Why does he get to be the one to leave? I make up my mind when I put the keys in the ignition. He’s coming back to this damn apartment, no matter what!

I know he can hear me drive up, in this loud diesel car... Instantly energized, he starts running faster. I sigh, exasperated, no longer angry. I’ve had enough, and now I’m feeling tired and a little heartbroken. Could he just stop?

He’s running, but it’s through a children’s park covered in knee-deep snow. I pull over to the other side of the trail, and I slow down.

He won’t stop walking away, still finding it inside himself to still be angry. But now I don’t know why! Just get in the car!

Maybe I said that part out loud?

“No! I’m not- “

“Get in the car!!”

“No! I’m not getting in the car with you!”

Now my words are frozen in my mouth. Nothing will come out.

“You can’t even take the- You can’t even- I WON and you can’t even-congratulate me?! We just got in a FIGHT-" He’s so mad he’s sputtering his words out.

This is where I realize that maybe the implication wasn’t bare. But his yelling is making me angry all over again.

“Well, you’re a son of a bitch! You can’t just win- “

I realize now, in the middle of my sentence, that we could be arguing about anything. We could be arguing about wrestling, or laundry, or groceries. We could be arguing about who is driving to the show next week. We could be arguing about our classes, or when we’re going home for the summer, or who would win in a bear-tiger-elephant battle, or sex. Anything. We could be arguing about anything.

“I can do whatever- “

Now I’ve really had enough. I’m watching as he visibly shivers in the cold, as he refuses to forgive me. My head is sticking out of the tiny car window as I yell “Get in the FUCKING CAR! Jesus CHRIST! Let me explain!”

He freezes, looking me dead in the eyes. I sigh, “Please!” 

I think he realizes how serious I am, because then he begrudgingly gets into the car. I’m feeling tired, nowhere near as wound up as I did moments ago, and definitely nowhere near as mad as when we started fighting.

=============================

And now we’re doing some sort of bastardized reconciliation on the ride back.

“You know- I didn’t-”

“Well, NOW I know.”

“I wouldn’t- “

“Yeah, yeah…” 

“…”

Maybe I’m still a little mad. “I’m never playing that dumbass game again.”

There’s silence as we pull close to the driveway. His shoulders shift as he stares out of the window. Maybe he’s still mad at me? For once, I can’t tell what he's feeling. Jay has never held anything against me like this, and I’m getting…. a little nervous. I’ve seen him truly, seriously angry maybe less than a handful of times in my entire life. And I know that his anger is enough to salt the earth, never to see fruit again.

My hands are shaking as I grip the steering wheel, white-knuckled. “I’m… sorry…”

He turns around so quickly it makes my head spin and grabs my collar. Oh no. The salt of the earth. We’re about to fight again, and I’m having the haunting feeling that I’m about to lose. 

He presses his lips against mine, tightly, like a promise. I’m getting another worrying thought – that even his anger feels good, as his hand gently presses into my collarbone. 

“Don’t you EVER- “ he starts, and I feel so relieved that I can feel the tension float away from my chest. Ah, it feels like the good old days again. Like after high school, when we would sneak into the back of his dad’s van and vanish into the old carpet. I would call him Jaybird when the wheels would rock, and he would look at me as if he would strike me down if it came from anyone lesser than. Then he would tell me that he loved me, and his skin would glow like the sunset.

The smolder from my lower half is tell-tale, nostalgic. “I won’t!” I’m saying it so fast, it’s like I practiced it. It’s been years. I have practiced it.

His eyes soften. Finally, forgiveness. “Good.” He hops out, and walks inside.

**Author's Note:**

> After credits-scene, fresh out of the shower: He’s holding my face in his hands.... “Am I going to win again tonight?” he asks. The bastard.
> 
> And then… idk what else happens I’m tired lol. Boyyyy I'm about to be hitting the edit button on this one like crazy tonight!! Might even venture over to the delete button... flirt with it a little. I've been snowed in in Texas and listen. I'm going a little insane lol i've never had so much free edge/christian time in my entire life
> 
> Oh you KNOW MAYBE (because maybe is like my favorite word rn) I should link the video that started this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fs59VoRvjo0&t=765s


End file.
